Military Cell, Dome City
The cold, unforgiving atmosphere of the prison hangs heavy in the air. Darius sits on the edge of a narrow cot, staring at the floor, his mind elsewhere. The clanging of metal against metal snaps him out of his thoughts. A familiar, shaky voice reaches his ears, pulling him to his feet.
Sarah (voice trembling) - Darius…
Darius, standing behind the bars of his cell, freezes. His heart skips a beat as his eyes widen, recognizing the voice he thought he'd never hear again. He moves closer to the bars, his voice barely above a whisper.
Darius - Sarah…?
Sarah rushes forward, grabbing the cold iron bars with both hands, her knuckles turning white as she grips them. Tears stream down her face, her emotions overwhelming her as she looks at her brother, battered and broken, yet alive.
Sarah (desperation in her voice, tears choking her words) - You idiot! I told you to come straight to me! Why didn’t you listen?
Darius, guilt and sorrow etched into his features, lowers his head, unable to meet her eyes.
Darius - I’m sorry, Sarah…
He glances at the soldier standing just behind Sarah, who watches the exchange with cold, detached eyes, unmoved by the siblings’ reunion. Darius' gaze shifts back to his sister.
Darius - Hey… I’m alright.
The soldier steps forward, his voice cutting through the emotional moment with harsh authority.
Soldier - Ma’am, you need to tell him what he needs to know.
Sarah wipes her tears, forcing herself to focus. She straightens up, trying to steady her shaking voice.
Sarah - Yeah, right… Darius, listen to me. I’ve made all the arrangements. We’re going to get you out of here soon. You just need to tell the court everything as happened in the last 3 years that got you here. Whatever happens, don't confess yourself guilty of the charges.
Darius looks at her, his expression a mix of exhaustion and hopelessness, his eyelids heavy from the weight of his doings.
Sarah (forcing a smile through her tears) - When you get out, I’ll make you your favorite pancakes. Same as what mom makes for you.
For a moment, a small, genuine smile spreads across Darius’s face, a brief respite from the darkness surrounding him.
Court room, Dome Council, Dome city
Mark and Hugo In their military Uniform stand side by side, staring at the imposing doors of the courtroom.
Mark (nervously fidgeting, his voice low) - Hey, do you think we’ll be able to get him out of there?
Hugo exhales slowly, his eyes fixed on the door as if seeing beyond it.
Hugo - I stopped thinking a while ago. Nowadays, I just believe. Like how you used to believe in the gods back in the day.
Mark turns to Hugo, surprised by the newfound resolve in his friend’s voice.
Hugo - Whether we can get him out or not depends on him. But one thing I know for sure… If the three of us get on the same page, no one can stop us. And I believe we will get him out of there clean, back to us.
Mark steps forward, drawing strength from Hugo’s words. He takes a deep breath, letting it fill him with the resolve he needs. With newfound determination, he grips the doorknob.
Mark - Then what are we waiting for?
He pushes the door open, the sound of its creaking hinges echoing through the silent hallway. The two friends walk into the courtroom, ready to face whatever comes next, united in their purpose and unwavering in their loyalty to their friend.
Flight strip, Military Airport, Dome city
John sits on the edge of the runway, staring up at the sky, lost in thought. Suddenly, Artair hovered beside him, his presence both comforting and unsettling. John without looking away from the sky, voice tinged with weariness.
John - So, he’s the other one?
Artair - Yeah, it’s him… I really feel sorry for that boy. What happened to him… no one deserves that.
John finally tears his gaze from the sky, looking at Artair with a mixture of resignation and understanding.
John - This time, it wasn’t your fault. For once, it wasn’t on you—it was just a cruel twist of fate.
Artair looks at John, surprise flickering in his eyes before a wry smile tugs at his lips.
Artair - Damn, you're actually not blaming me this time?
John exhales deeply, shaking his head in disbelief.
John - I never thought Grandpa’s bedtime stories would turn into today’s nightmare.
Artair - Me neither.
With a sigh, John stands up, brushing the dust off his pants. He glances at his watch, then back at Artair.
John - Come on, it’s almost time. And please, for once, try not to piss off Oliver. By doing anything stupid.
Artair smirks, his mischievous nature bubbling to the surface.
Artair - If he says one word out of line, I’ll crush him. You know why?
John gives Artair an exasperated look, already knowing where this is headed.
John - All these years passed and you motherfucker didn’t even try to change, you know that?
Artair - C’mon ask me.
John - Fine, why?
Artair’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with that familiar cockiness.
Artair - Because I can.
John can’t help but roll his eyes, shaking his head as they start walking.
John - Moron.
Artair, unfazed, floats beside him, his tone playful but with a hint of pride.
Artair - A beautiful moron. A powerful moron.
John - Just a moron!
Artair - You Know I might’ve killed that guy, but I didn’t because you told me not to.
John - Oh Really! Thanks for listening to me…. Is that what you want to hear?
Trial : Darius Becket Vs. Dome Council
The grand courtroom is a sight to behold, its high ceilings towering above, supported by
imposing columns that stretch towards the sky. Rays of sunlight pierce through the ornate skylight, casting harsh beams across the polished marble floor, giving the entire room a sense of cold, austere magnificence. Rows upon rows of military personnel fill the seats, their uniforms a sea of disciplined order in the tense atmosphere. Every murmur and whisper seems to echo in the vast, cavernous space, amplifying the gravity of the proceedings. At the center of this imposing scene stands Darius Becket, shackled to a metal pole in the defendant's box. He looks gaunt and weary, his eyes void of any emotion as they remain fixed on the ground, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.
Across from Darius, the panel of twelve counselors of the Dome, sits on a raised dais. At the center of them is the Chief Justice, a figure of authority and stern judgment. The room, once filled with whispered conversations, falls into a heavy silence as the trial is called to order.
Chief Justice [in a deep, resonant voice] - This court is now in session. The case before the council is the trial of Darius Becket, accused of the demolition of the assets of Dome City under Article 356 of the Military Charter, the mass murder of Dome soldiers under Article 102 of the Terrorism Act, and heinous acts committed against the survival of humanity under the Penal Code. The prosecution may now begin.
The prosecutor, Commander Elena Grey, a tall, sharp-eyed woman with a stern
presence, steps forward. She wears her military uniform with a severity that matches her expression. Her voice is clear and cutting as she addresses the court, her gaze never wavering from Darius.
Commander Grey - Ladies and gentlemen of the court, Chief Justice and the honorable council, the man before you is not just any criminal. He is a monster—a weapon of mass destruction who has wrought havoc upon countless lives. We have witnessed the devastation he’s capable of: an entire section of a city reduced to ash, families torn apart because of his mass butchering of our soldiers, and the destruction of our outposts and bases—vital hubs intended to secure the survival of humanity, now lost. His actions have caused humanity a setback we can hardly afford. He stands accused of crimes so heinous that they defy comprehension. But today, we seek not just to punish him, but to ensure that justice is served to all affected by his actions, and to guarantee that such atrocities never happen again.
Her words are met with a heavy silence, the weight of them pressing down on everyone present. Darius remains unmoved, his gaze still fixed on the floor as if the accusations are distant echoes he can barely hear. The Chief Justice nods solemnly before turning his attention to the defense.
Chief Justice - The defense may now present its case.
Darius’s lawyer, Commander Victor Hayes, rises from his seat. A man in his middle years, Hayes exudes a calm and measured demeanor, though his eyes reveal a deep sense of resolve. He steps forward, addressing the court with a voice that is steady and controlled.
Commander Hayes - Your Honors, members of the court, the honorable council, Darius Becket is indeed a powerful individual, but he is not the monster he’s been portrayed as. He is a man—a man who, when growing up, was abandoned due to the event of the split, deceived by the false hope of salvation, forced to survive on his own and ultimately broken by forces beyond his control. These experiences led to the corruption of his mind, steering him down a path of destruction. But Darius is not inherently a danger to humanity. He is, in fact, a victim—a victim of a world that turned its back on him when he needed help the most. Today, we ask the court not just to weigh his actions, but to consider the suffering he has endured. We ask for a chance—one chance for him to live by our norms, to contribute to the Dome’s cause, and perhaps to find redemption.
The courtroom buzzes with murmurs, the spectators reacting to Hayes’s plea with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. The Chief Justice’s eyes narrow slightly as he strikes the gavel sharply, bringing the room back to order.
Chief Justice - Silence in the court! … Mr. Hayes, the court does not operate on beliefs alone. We deal in facts and evidence. The council is not inclined to gamble with the beliefs of the thousands of families whose loved ones were slain by Darius Becket. Do you have anything tangible to support your defense?
Hayes, unflinching, nods and steps closer to the panel.
Commander Hayes - Indeed, I do, my lord.
With a calm, deliberate motion, Hayes presents a document before the chief justice.
Commander Hayes - Here, I submit evidence—a series of classified reports and testimonies from military personnel who were present during the incidents in question.
These reports detail the moments leading up to Darius’s actions, documenting the influence of external forces, Majorly the people of the outside that manipulated Darius’s mind. Additionally, I have secured the testimony of Dr. Elena Marlow, a leading expert in the field of psychology, who has examined Darius extensively and can provide critical insights into his mental state during the last 3 years. Darius' mental condition was damaged and he hallucinated an entity called Ztabay, who, as he claims, influenced his actions. Dr. Elena concluded that Darius is suffering from Post-traumatic stress disorder which caused his personality to split.
Commander Grey - And that makes it more dangerous to put him back in the society my lord.
The Chief Justice gestures for the evidence to be brought forward. The atmosphere in the room shifts as the documents are handed to the counselors for review.
The courtroom remains tense as Commander Hayes continues his defense, his voice steady and firm despite the weight of the case against his client.
Commander Hayes - As per Doctor Elena Marlow's expert analysis, Darius Becket's mental conditioning can be treated through intensive counseling and specialized therapies, which could help him regain control over his actions.
Commander Elena Grey, the prosecutor, immediately rises from her seat, her sharp gaze fixed on Hayes.
Commander Grey - Objection, my lord.
The Chief Justice, seated at the center of the dais, raises a hand to signal the court's attention.
Chief Justice - Proceed, Commander Grey.
Commander Grey - We cannot overlook the fact that Darius Becket harbors within him a force of unimaginable destruction, a force over which he has demonstrated no control. Allowing him the opportunity for therapy without addressing the immediate danger he poses would be a grave mistake—one that could cost countless lives.
Hayes remains composed, his eyes locked on the Chief Justice as he responds.
Commander Hayes - For that, my lord, I would like to call upon the Council’s Chief secretary, Dr. Karl Morgen, an expert in the field of advanced weaponry and Bio-engineering, to provide further insight into the nature of this force.
The Chief Justice considers this for a moment before nodding.
Chief Justice - The court will hear from Dr. Karl Morgen.
Dr. Karl Morgen, a man in his fifties with a calm, scholarly demeanor, steps into the witness box. His expression is serious as he begins to speak.
Dr. Karl Morgen - My lord, members of the court, honorable council, the condition that Darius Becket exhibits is not an unknown phenomenon to my team of scientists. In fact, it is the result of a failed experiment—an experiment inspired by ancient epics of the mythical guardian. We sought to create a weapon during a time of constant warfare on our planet, a weapon for my nation, capable of turning the tide of any war. However, as we realized the potential dangers and the catastrophic risks if such a weapon fell into the wrong hands, we chose to abandon the project. Unfortunately, the experiment was stolen from my company before we could dismantle it completely.
The courtroom buzzes with whispers as Dr. Karl’s words sink in. Darius remains motionless, his eyes fixed on the glossy floor, seemingly indifferent to the ongoing arguments and revelations.
Dr. Karl Morgen - We do not know who completed the experiment or how Darius Becket came into possession of it, particularly in a low-security area. But what I can assure this court is that we understand the nature of the force within him, and we know how to control it. In fact, with the council’s permission, I have already deployed one of my finest creations to aid in his capture. This creation, known as a Volkermord, is akin to the force that Darius carries within him. We have successfully contained this power before, and we can do so again. I can assure that all of the mental sessions will take place under extensive care under my supervision.
Dr. Karl briefly glances at Sarah, who is seated in the audience. She returns his gaze with a look of desperate hope, silently pleading for her brother’s life. Darius, however, remains disengaged, his dead eyes reflecting the harsh light of the courtroom reflecting on the floor.

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